Cinderson
by applesandbannas747
Summary: When Seth was seven, his mother ran away, taking his sister with her. Not long after, his father remarried. Seth may not have gotten along with his step mother and her daughters, but things were more or less okay until his father died, leaving him at the mercy of the three unpleasant women. Years later, a letter came bearing news of a ball and a prince and a fairytale ending...
1. Invitations

**Disclaimer:** Alas, Fablehaven belongs to Brandon Mull. I'm just borrowing the characters.

~oOo~

Seth was no stranger to rude awakenings. But the thing about rude awakenings is that, while you may get used to them, they don't get any less annoying. So when his sleep was brought to an abrupt end by shrieks and giggles that morning, it was with great annoyance that he went to see what the fuss was about. He made his way downstairs and found his step sisters bouncing with delight, laughing shrilly all the while.

"What's the party for?" Seth asked, only half caring. The steps' happiness and his were often mutually exclusive, which meant he likely wouldn't care to hear the answer.

"A ball!" Anita said, too excited to shoot Seth her customary glare.

"The prince is putting on a ball!" Exclaimed Carmen, as if it wasn't obvious that the royal family would be hosting it.

"And since when does that concern _you two_?" Seth asked. Sure, they came from a well off and well respected family, but not one high enough to warrant ball invitations being extended to them.

"Oh, shut your mouth," Anita snapped, this time remembering to glare. Seth shrugged innocently. "The ball is open to _all_ the ladies in the kingdom."

"So? I still don't see how it applies to you. I mean, if it's only for the _ladies,_ then you're out of luck." Seth's jeer was met with huffs and a pillow being lobbed at his head.

"Be careful, Cinderson, you could be talking to your future _queen_. Comments like that could get you beheaded." Seth ignored Anita's use of his 'nickname,' which she was obviously disappointed about. She and Carmen had thought themselves so clever when, years ago, they came up with the name— 'cinder,' because he was often covered in ashes from tending the fire, combined with his last name: Sorenson. It had bugged him at first. Now it really was just another name he responded to.

"You, a queen? And how would that nightmare become reality?"

"The prince is looking for a wife," Carmen spat at him. "Come on, Anita, let's tell Mother. The sooner we put in orders for our dresses, the better." The two girls traipsed out of the room, leaving their opened letters strewn on the coffee table. Seth stooped to snatch one, glancing it over. And, sure enough, Prince Bracken was looking for a bride and hoped to find one at his birthday ball later that month. All the kingdom's eligible maidens were invited and encouraged to come. _How_ Prince Bracken planned to sort through a kingdom's worth of girls in a handful of hours and find the perfect queen, Seth didn't know. He snorted, dropping the letter. It seemed like a dumb idea to him. But what did it matter to him? As long as the prince had _any_ taste at all, the Fae Kingdom would be spared having Carmen or Anita for queen, and that's as far as his interest stretched.

~oOo~

Seth didn't mind the farm work. It wasn't far from what he'd always expected he'd do. He used o help his dad around the farm, and though it was a bigger burden alone, it at least felt rightfully _his_ to carry. It was the housework that got to him. It was cleaning up after Carmen and Anita and his step mother, cooking for them, _waiting_ on them in general that made his blood boil. It shouldn't be his job to take care of them, but it was. He had to remind himself that harboring bitter feelings for the steps wasn't going to get him anywhere, that wanting to wring their necks was dumb and pointless, that his energies were best exerted elsewhere. And when he was outside tending the animals it was a lot easier to remember that. He could pretend that he was here because he wanted to be, that he did this because he wanted to. Not because he was more or less a slave to his step mother.

"Hey Viola," he greeted his cow, petting her for a moment before going about the morning farm duties. Viola was rather large for a milk cow, and, when his step mother was particularly displeased with Seth, she'd threaten to have Viola cut up for meat. Luckily, it have never escalated to that.

As he worked, Seth thought back on the days when his dad was alive, before that even, to when his family was whole and happy on this same land. He'd been seven when his mother left, and Kendra… It was so long ago that he hardly remembered it. He'd have forgotten his sister's face if he didn't have a photo of her— he'd long forgotten what his real mom looked like because his father couldn't stand having her likeness around the house. And then good old Dad had married Belinda and brought her and her dumb daughters to their home. He tried not to, but on his worst days, Seth couldn't help but feel angry at his father for chasing off their real family and trying to replace them with Belinda, Carmen, and Anita. And he felt anger towards his mom too, for running off with Kendra and never looking back. The only person in the world he felt no bitterness towards was his big sister. But he didn't know how to find her…

"The ball!" Seth blurted, startling poor Viola, who gave a disgruntled moo. "Sorry, girl," Seth soothed, but his mind was racing. The ball. All eligible maidens in the land were invited to go… going to a ball, falling in love with the prince, living happily ever after like some fairytale— it was just Kendra's style. She'd be there. He _knew_ that if she had any say in the matter, and she should, she'd be at Prince Bracken's 20th birthday ball. And if Kendra was going to be at the ball, then so was Seth. The only question was _how_ he was going to get there…


	2. Preparations

A/N: thank you all for the nice comments!3

~oOo~

Preparations for the ball were underway. Announcements had been sent to every household in the kingdom and plastered around the town. All sorts of deliveries were arriving at the palace. And every girl in the kingdom between fifteen and nineteen was frantically preparing herself for the chance to win the heart of a prince.

The ball was just about the only thing Carmen, Anita, and Belinda had been able to talk about for days. Seth would have been irritated by the constant babble about such a dumb thing, but he figured that'd make him a hypocrite since all he could think about was the ball— Would Kendra bee there? Would he be able to find her? Would she recognize him? Would he recognize her? And, most pressing of all, _how_ would he get there?

"I bet the food's fantastic!" Anita was saying.

"Too bad we won't be able to try any," Carmen replied absently, holding up her newly arrived gown, clearly distracted by it.

"And why not?"

"If _you_ want to look like a pig stuffing her face in front of Prince Bracken, you're welcome to. But _I_ won't be found dead by the food table," she paused, glancing to her sister's dress. "Plus, what if you spill on yourself?"

"Oh," Anita continued speaking but Seth stopped listening to the vapid scheming of his step sisters. So maybe he _was_ a hypocrite. But at least _he_ wasn't plotting to seduce anyone.

"Seth!" Carmen snapped at him, and he turned from his mopping to face her. She looked frustrated. Probably she'd tried to talk to him— more likely tell him to do something— and was upset that he hadn't responded. It was rather problematic, at times, just how good he was at tuning his steps out.

"What?" He asked when she didn't repeat her earlier request of him.

"I _said_ I want to try on my gown," she huffed.

"Right now?" Seth glared at her.

"Yes." And she left, not waiting for Seth to respond. Because, of course, Seth would follow her. He had to, or risk facing the wrath of Belinda later (whom Carmen would no doubt tattle to). So he put away the mop for later and trudged after her. _This_ was the worst part of it all. Worse than cleaning up after his step family, worse than cooking for them, worse than going on errands for them. Helping his step sisters into their complicated dresses and fixing their hair was the absolute worst of his tasks.

It took some doing to get Carmen into her outfit— first the corset, then the crinoline, then the layers of fine fabric and the dress itself. His step sisters really had no shame— he'd have been embarrassed to have someone help him into clothes, but, in all likelihood, his steps didn't even see him as a person. They'd see it more like being dressed by an enchanted coat stand than an actual human being.

"Now, what should we do about my hair?" Carmen asked, clumsily pulling her hair up in a twist, then in an approximation of a bun, then brushing it over her shoulder.

Seth didn't answer. It was possible she'd just been thinking out loud— talking to herself. He hoped she was. It would be easier to do what she wanted than to cycle through twenty different styles. But she looked at him pointedly, obviously expecting him to answer. Like _he_ knew anything about hair. He scoffed, but replied, "I say we curl it and put it in a low bun, leaving a couple strands of hair loose. You can dress it up with hair ornaments that match your dress. It'll make you look refined but youthful." Okay, fine. He _did_ know a thing or two about hair. But that's because he'd been forced to be the on call hairdresser of the house for almost ten years. You picked stuff up after doing it for that long, whether you wanted to or not. Which is why he was an expert on dresses and hair and makeup.

"Hmmm, that could work. You can do my makeup while the curlers are in."

"Right now?" Seth asked, though he already knew the answer.

"Of course! I need to make sure my outfit comes together perfectly. Don't want to put it on the night of the ball only to find the dress doesn't look good with my hair, or my makeup's the wrong color." Carmen sat on a stool in front of her vanity, and Seth got to work. As he was wrapping Carmen's hair into the curlers, Seth's hands worked on their own and his mind wondered back to how he could get to the ball. Sneak in? No, security was too high, and if he got past that he'd be thrown out before getting far into the ball itself. No matter how he looked at it, there was only one solution— he needed to go as a guest.

"Say, Carmen," Seth started slowly, an idea forming in his mind. "What if something happened at the ball? Like your dress got ripped, or your hair started falling out of its style, or your makeup smeared?" Carmen gasped at the thought.

"I didn't even think to worry about that!" She squealed.

"Well, if I went with you I could make sure everything stays in order. Like your own personal fashion manager."

"What's in it for you?" Carmen asked, narrowing her eyes at Seth in the mirror. _Damn._ Good question.

"The food." Seth supplied with a shrug. "Like Anita said, the food will be high end stuff and I'd like to try it."

"You are both such gluttons," Carmen sneered, but she seemed to be considering the idea of bringing Seth along. "But it _wouldn't_ be a terrible idea. Yes, I think I _will_ take you with me. A lady should aways have good help at hand, after all."

"My thoughts exactly," Seth said, trying to keep a smile from spreading over his face. He was so elated to have found a way into the ball that he didn't even mind being called _help_.

~oOo~

Seth was, for once, happy to help his step sisters into their fancy outfits. It had been a fortnight since the invitations were sent out, and at long last the night had arrived. _The ball._ He was going to the ball tonight. He imagined it as he tightened Anita's corset. He'd escort his step sisters into the dance. They'd enter the ballroom from the stairs above, giving him a perfect view of the room, where he'd scan the crowd of young women, nervous that she wasn't there, that he wouldn't recognize her, and then right when he'd given up hope, a girl with long brown hair would turn to see the newcomers. It would be _her._ The rest of the world would disappear. Their eyes would meet, and she'd recognize him at once— he'd see her say his name, though he'd be too far away to hear it. Then the spell would break and she'd be rushing towards him— running up the stairs as he ran down and they'd collide halfway and he'd hug his big sister for the first time in almost a decade and she'd apologize for not being able to come get him sooner and promise to take him away with her. They'd run away together and he'd never have to say goodbye to Kendra again. Alright, it was a might dramatic, but Seth lived on daydreams. And shouldn't being reunited with your long lost sister be dramatic, anyway? It didn't matter in the end, though, as long as he could find her. And he _would_.

Seth played over all the scenarios in his head as he finished getting Anita and Carmen ready. Belinda was too dignified to use his help, and when Seth and his step sisters went downstairs, she was already waiting for them, looking put together and beautiful and cruel. She scanned Seth's handiwork on her daughters and nodded in approval. She'd been the one who taught him the basics of fashion and hair, so she wouldn't have to baby her girls, passing that on to Seth instead.

"Come girls, we must be going now." She turned to the door, and Seth, Carmen, and Anita followed. But as they got to the coach, Belinda turned, eyes locking on Seth with distaste. "And what are _you_ doing?"

"He's coming to help with any fashion emergencies," Carmen said before Seth could even come up with a response.

"Absolutely not." Belinda said cooly.

"But Mother! I need him! What if my dress rips?"

"It won't."

"But what if it _does_? What if my bun falls out? Or I sweat all my makeup off?" Carmen insisted, working up to a fit.

"Then be careful. Carmen, darling, if you insist on causing a scene, you are welcome to stay here with our little Cinderson. He can not come. It's not up to me. He has no invitation."

"You don't need one— that's what the announcements all over town say. They're just a formality— Nita and I don't need to bring ours."

"But you are an eligible maiden, and all eligible maidens are welcome. Last time I checked, our Cinderson was not a young lady." And with that, Belinda turned to climb into the coach she'd rented for the evening, leaving her daughters no choice but to follow.

Seth watched them ride off, a sick feeling in his stomach. He'd been so close. But his step mother was right. Even if he'd gotten past her, he would have been stopped at the entrance. He'd been stupid and blinded by his excitement, his hope. It didn't matter if he was a guest of a guest; he needed to be a real guest. He needed an invitation. An invitation… hope rekindled within him as he dashed to search the house for Carmen and Anita's innovations. They didn't need the papers to get in, and it was at least worth a shot to try and use one as his own.

He searched every room in the house, but he couldn't find anything. He looked again. He _needed_ an invitation. The only other way in was to be an eligible future bride for Prince Bracken, and he certainly wasn't _that._ Finally, after almost an hour of looking, he collapsed on the couch, exhausted and upset. He felt the tears in his eyes, and wiped them away furiously. It wasn't fair. None of it was fair. But he hadn't cried since his dad died and he wasn't going to cry over missing a ball. _A ball that Kendra might have been at._ The tears came again. He wanted to throw things, break his father's old possessions and tear apart the new ones Belinda had brought with her on her arrival. But that would get him nowhere, so instead he picked himself up from the couch and ran outside, into the forest by the fields he tended. He ran until his legs ached and his lungs refused to work. Then he started shouting. Cursing obscenities at his mother and father, at Belinda and Carmen and Anita, at himself for being so _stupid._

"I hate you! I hate this! I hate it here! I hate me! Stupid, stupid, _stupid!"_ He yelled until he couldn't yell anymore. Then he crumpled against a tree. "I just want my sister back," he whispered softly. But he couldn't get her back. Not now. That ball was the best chance he had at finding her.

"I can help you," a gentile voice fell on Seth's ears, making him jump. His head snapped up and he looked franticly for the source, but all he saw was a small glowing firebug. Only, as he watched, it grew bigger and bigger, light enveloping the bug as it transformed into a beautiful woman with soft eyes and a kind smile. Seth stared at her in awe. "I can help you," she said again. "I can get you into the ball. But I'm afraid you might not like it."

 _I'm going crazy_ , Seth thought. But he said, "Anything. I'll do anything to get in."


	3. Transformations

"How are you going to get me into the ball?" Seth asked his companion cautiously.

"Why, with a dash of magic, of course." She winked, and Seth watched as the beautiful woman pulled out a long silvery stick from thin air. _A wand._ He eyed it suspiciously. Magic. He'd watched this lady transform from a bug into a person not two minutes earlier. And yet, it was hard to believe this was really happening. He ached to believe in magic. Kendra always had. Tales of fairies and princes and magic, magic, _magic_ had been what he'd grown up on. Of course they were; they were Kendra's favorite, and she'd been in charge of looking after him— entertaining him, making sure he went to bed, that he ate his meals on time. Their parents were always too busy arguing. Seth's father had become a better parent, once the man's bickering partner and Seth's care taker had left. But by then he didn't need bedtime stories. So he'd grown up hearing about magic and, well, _believing_ in magic. It was only after Kendra left that his belief faded. It hurt too much to think he lived in a world with fairies and wonder and beauty, that that world could have taken his sister away from him. He'd gone years with a special hatred of magic. The kind of hatred that comes from once loving and trusting something so entirely, the hate that comes from distrust and betrayal and that ever-present _wanting_ for it to prove you wrong.

So there he was, being proven wrong. The swirl of emotion in his gut must have shown on his face. The apprehension to trust that this woman was magical, and the desire to believe again. The firebug woman smiled kindly at him and waved her stick— wand— at a field mouse scampering by them on the forest floor. The mouse grew and expanded rapidly, turning into a horse faster than Seth could blink.

"Now then, is that quit enough proof that I am a capable magic wielder?"

"Wow," was Seth's clever response.

"Remind me, Seth Sorenson, of the ways one can gain entrance into Prince Bracken's ball."

"Uhh," Seth urged his mind to snap back into place. "An invitation, breaking in, sneaking in, or maybe bribery."

"I believe there is one more?"

"Being a young maiden, I guess," Seth said slowly, not understanding why they should even go over that option as it was useless to them. _But she turned that mouse into a horse…_

"And that is the one we shall work with."

"Why? Can't you just conjure me up an invite?"

"I certainly could. But it would not get you into the ball. All gentlemen invited are well known to the royal family and their guards. You wouldn't be let past the door. Perhaps you'd go to jail for forging an invitation."

"What about bribing the guards?"

"Not every guard is bribable, and you'd need to bribe everyone to ensure your stay would last long enough to find your sister. There is a great safety concern for this celebration, and all palace hands will be on the look out for someone out of place."

"So sneaking and breaking in are out. Then what if I went as a palace hand?"

"You could. But only the highly trusted ones would be in the ballroom. You'd be in the kitchens, likely. If you did manage to get to the party, you'd have duties to see to, making wondering off to look for her difficult."

"But one more young maiden would not phase anyone. She'd be free to wonder and roam as much as she liked and wouldn't be questioned. Fine. It's clearly the best option. Let's get going, then."

"A wise conclusion. I work better in the open, would you mind terribly if we went to your gardens?"

"Sure, follow me." Seth lead the way through the forest, followed by both the fairy and the horse. And then several more mice, some lizards, a collection of birds and even a snake. "So you're the princess in this case, right?" Seth asked, joking.

"I am no princess."

"I didn't mean literally. Just, in all the stories, princess are followed around by little forest creatures and such. So _you're_ the one they're following, right?"

"Not at all. They are drawn to _you_ , not me."

"Why?"

"They find your quest to be a worthy one. The presence of my magic makes your intentions clear to them. But make no mistake, they are here to help you, not because I called for them."

"Great. Now I can be a fairytale princess. Just what I've always wanted."

"It is an honor to be helped by the animals, Seth. It means your heart is pure and your motivation to go the ball are those of love for your sister, no greed involved."

" _Pure of heart_. Like I said, fairytale princess. Besides, my motives are _so_ greedy. I want my sister back. If that isn't selfish, I don't know what is."

"That's _love_ , Seth. You want to find her because you love her, not because you've discovered she has come into wealth and you want a piece of it."

"Huh?" Seth glanced at the fairy. "Has she?"

"It is of no mater to you."

"I mean, yeah. I guess. But are you proving a point with that or has she actually 'come into wealth?'"

"I am most certainly proving a point."

"Well, alright then. Here we are." Seth stopped and looked around at his vegetables and fruits. As he did so, he found that his entourage had grown. Viola the cow had joined them, along with the chickens. He shook is head. _This is bizarre._

"Let us start." And with that, the fairy started waving around her wand, performing complicated patterns of swirls, jabs, and sweeps of her arms. Animals turned from one thing into another in such haste that Seth couldn't keep track. One of his pumpkins grew and transformed into an intricate golden coach. By the end of the fairy's dance, six beautiful white horses were hooked onto the pumpkin coach, with a driver and footman stood near.

"This is…incredible. Impossible, but incredible." Seth took a closer look at the horses and found that one had a black splotch on her haunch, just like the one on…"Viola," Seth laughed in amazement, and pet the hours (cow?) fondly.

"Indeed it is. And now, it is your turn."

"Does it… I mean, how does it work? Will it hurt?"

"Not at all, dear boy. However, there are restrictions on human transformations. I can not change you without the effects being permanent. It is to keep one honest about who they are. The best I can provide are illusions, and those are useless, since when they're touched, they fizz and and you can go right through to what is real beneath it."

"So why'd you say you could get me into the ball as a girl?"

"Because I can. I can grow out your hair, you'll be able to cut it back down later, and mask your voice, since auditory illusions can not be touched, they are much more effective. You are young enough to pass for a girl, if we dress you up the right way." She answered. So he'd just be dressed as a girl. He couldn't decide if that was better or worse than having the body of a girl for a night.

"My step sisters and I don't share the same dress size."

"Clothes I can work with freely." She didn't give Seth time to respond before she was waving her wand again. Seth felt something like a summer breeze gust past him, and his skin was left pleasantly tingly. He felt his head grow heavy with hair, felt it cascade down his shoulders, as his body became heavy with fabric and his shoulders became exposed to the air. "I hope you don't mind, I did some work on your nails and skin. Nothing that couldn't be achieved through cosmetics, and with proper wear and tear you'll be back to normal."

"So—woah!" Seth didn't recognize his voice. It was higher and softer. He regained composure, and cleared his throat. "So, that's it? I'm ready to go?"

"Yes—oh! One more thing." She waved her wand one last time and Seth felt his heels lift off the ground. He picked up the deep green folds of his dress to reveal his feet, now inclosed in delicate golden slippers. "You look lovely."

"Uh, thanks." As long as they'd let him in, Seth didn't care if he was a beautiful fairytale princess or a butt ugly girl in a pretty dress. Actually, he might have preferred to be the latter. Maybe the fairy was trying to spare his feelings. He started walking to his coach, but thought of one last thing he might need. "On sec, I've gotta grab something," Seth told the fairy as he scampered (very ungracefully) into the house and up to his room. He fished out a golden charm bracelet from a drawer and slipped it on. It had been Kendra's, with a small unicorn, a rose, a heart, and a crown hanging from the chain. She couldn't find it before having to leave. So, when Seth had discovered it in the barn, he'd held onto it for her. If she didn't recognize him at the ball, he could offer it as proof. Since it may be hard for her to believe that her little brother was in a dress.

Seth was leaving the house again when he caught a glimpse of his reflection in the floor length mirror in Anita and Carmen's room. He only saw an elegant figure draped in green from the open door, and his curiosity got the better of him. He moved into the room so as to see himself fully. He did look lovely. His skin looked soft and clear, his brown hair was long and curled gently, half of it pulled back in a loose bun. His lips were red, his cheeks pleasantly rosy, and his hazel eyes popped with the eye makeup. And the dress. It was as green as the forest and accented with gold. The fabric gave his body delicate curves. It was sleeveless, displaying his shoulders and neck, and outlined his nonexistent chest, but there seemed to be extra layering there to give him the idea of breasts, then it tapered in at his waist and cascaded to the floor in layers and layers of fabric, resulting in a larger skirt than even Anita's crinoline had achieved. He looked rather like he'd imagined Kendra would.

He stared at himself dumbly in the mirror for awhile longer, before realizing that he'd better get a move on or he'd be late. He rushed to his coach, and as he did he remembered that his steps would be there. If they recognized him…but no, they wouldn't. With his transformation, he didn't recognize himself.


	4. Arrival

The entire ride to the palace Seth fiddled anxiously with Kendra's charm bracelet. He was guaranteed a way in now, but this was vastly different from anything he'd imagined. His previous daydreams evaporated, leaving him with the uncertain and tedious reality of wading through all the maidens Fae Kingdom had to offer, searching for the most important one. He had sudden sympathy for Prince Bracken.

Seth was jolted out of his thoughts when the coach came to a halt. His heart stuttered, finally voicing its concerns over this stunt. But it was too late to stop now. And even if he could turn around, he wouldn't. It would all be worth it when he and Kendra left this palace together. His footman (previously a lizard, if he remembered correctly) opened the door for him and he scooted his way out of the cushioned interior of his pumpkin. He gratefully took the lizard footman's hand to help him down the stairs and managed not to stumble when his feet met the ground. He smoothed his dress down then put a hand to his hair, as if to fuss with it, before thinking better of it and dropping the offending hand.

"Well, I guess there's no point staling, huh?" He said with a nervous laugh, still unused to his flowery voice. The lizard footman gave no response, just smiled and bowed, arm extended towards the palace. "Right. Well, here we go." And he went. Straight down the path, and up the stairs to the castle— slowly and deliberately, so as not to trip or start sweating off all his makeup. He was starting to admire his steps for being able to traipse about in fussy gowns and heels seemingly without effort, because he was finding it difficult to not step on any hems or twist any ankles. It didn't help that he was painfully aware of how _late_ he was. No one but the guards were around. There must have been thousands of guests, and yet he was alone in his lateness. He marveled at the timelines of them all. He'd never been to an event in which there weren't a few stragglers, and those were only small gatherings. His wonder turned to worry. Maybe latecomers weren't allowed. Maybe he'd be barred from the ball after all. But as he reached the top of the stairs, the guards opened the tall doors for him. He smiled at them, relief amplifying his gratitude. They nodded smartly, eyes on him. He felt their gazes long after he'd passed them. _Can they tell?_

His heels _click-clacked_ as he hurried down the corridor, eyes skimming the walls for any sign of a door, ears straining for any sound of a ball. He was starting to worry at the lack of doors when the low rumble of a crowd reached his ears. He almost broke into a trot in his eagerness to arrive, but forced himself to instead slow down and take deep breathes. This was it. He would soon enter into the heart of the palace. The room that, with any luck, held Kendra. But also the room that would determine his fate. Would his disguise hold up? Would credentials be checked after all? Would he be discovered? Or turned away for some other reason?

"I can do this," Seth muttered to himself as the grand doors that must lead to the ballroom came into view. "Just pull up your big girl panties and pretend like you belong. You've got this. You had better got this." He stopped briefly in front of the doors, dark wood with beautiful engravings and gold leafing. "For Kendra." And with that he flung the doors open and marched into the party.

Really, he'd meant to slip in quietly. The first mistake he'd made was pushing hard on the doors. He'd assumed them to be heavy and reluctant to move. He'd assumed wrong. Hence _flinging_ the doors open. He had also incorrectly assumed that no one would be much interested in a straggler. All eyes found him as he burst into the room. He smiled nervously at the crowd below him, trying not to show his discomfort. His eyes darted around the room trying to seek out Kendra. He did not see her face in the masses, but he did see a lot of people looking at him in the same way the guards at the doors had. What did those looks mean? He hastened to join the dance floor below him, hesitating momentarily at which staircase to take down. Left or right? Was there a difference? He chose the right one, as it was closest and hurried down the steps. His heels _click-clack-click-clacked_ in loud staccato beats down the stairs and he held tightly to the rail, hoping not to fall.

At last he reached level ground and slipped into the crowd. Mercifully, everyone's attentions turned back to the party: talking, eating, dancing, and more than anything Prince Bracken. Seth left them all to their socialization and flirtations, caring only about finding Kendra. The room was largely female. There were at least five girls to every one man in the place. Seth supposed the prince didn't want anyone swooping in on his territory and stealing the hearts of any potential wives. Pathetic. The girls didn't seem to mind, though only a handful of them could dance at a time. They were likely putting all their extra time to casually walking in front of Bracken, or draping themselves splendidly against walls, or speaking loudly about their family titles or charity projects hoping that the prince would over hear and take interest. Seth heard quite a lot of whispered schemes of seductions:

 _'…wardrobe malfunction in the hall when he's coming back from…'_

 _'…injury when we dance, then he'll have to…'_

 _'I might just corner him somewhere and show him my_ skills _…'_

 _'…so I thought what the hell and bought the potion, worst case scenario it doesn't work, but if it does…'_

Carmen wasn't alone in her plotting and it didn't surprise Seth one bit. Once again he felt a pang of sympathy for the prince. The poor guy would have to navigate all the scheming and deceptions and try to find a sincere girl who would love him as a person, rather than a prince. _Good luck_ , Seth thought, passing yet another hoard of whispering girls.

~oOo~

Seth pushed his way through the seemingly endless room looking left and right for the one face he cared about. He'd been at it for long enough that his feet were starting to complain. He let out a huff and decided he'd better take a break. He made his way to the outskirts of the room, looking for a place to sit.

"Anita!" He froze at the voice. Carmen. There was no way she'd noticed him. He glanced towards her voice and saw her looking right at him. Cold sweat started gathering between his shoulder blades. His heart was pounding. He'd been discovered. "Anita, look at that girl," she hissed. _Girl_. Maybe he was safe. He spotted a side door and hurried towards it. As he did, he heard Anita say "Where did she get that dress? It's stunning. She's one of the prettier ones here, we'll have to watch out for her." And Anita respond with "Spill wine on her? Trip near her and pull out her hair or tear her dress as we go down?"

Seth slipped into a smaller hallway than the one he'd taken to enter the ball. He took in a long breath of air that was not laced in sweat and perfume for the first time in what felt like hours. He would never have guessed that the biggest room in the kingdom could be so claustrophobic. His thoughts turned to the steps as his heart finally calmed down. He'd been so sure he'd been found out. And yet…and yet Carmen had not seen _him_. She'd seen a pretty dress. _A pretty girl_. One worth sabotaging. He laughed at the absurdity of it. Him? Real competition for the prince's heart? Lucky for Carmen and Anita he wasn't interested in it. He wondered briefly if other girls felt the same as his steps. He laughed again, this time at himself. His steps weren't the brightest, it was one thing to fool them with an extravagant dress, but other girls? No way.

He scanned the hall he was currently standing in and caught a sliver of light from a barely opened door kitty corner to the one he'd come out of. He decided to go for it, hoping to find a bench or at least somewhere private to slump on the floor and massage his feet. It seemed as though he would be doing the latter. The room was small and lit only by candles. It felt personal and cozy. A portrait of a beautiful women with sweeping silver hair and a soft smile dominated the small space. She wore a crown on her head and a dazzling dress. The queen, Seth realized. Or _a_ queen. But the woman in the picture didn't look stiff and regal like so many royal pictures he'd seen. She seemed genuinely happy, and her eyes sparkled. He noticed that her crown sat ever so slightly lopsided on her head. Seth grinned at that, already liking this queen though he didn't even know which one she was. He had the odd sensation that he recognized her…Perhaps he'd seen pictures of her before?

The rest of the room was empty but for a fine table adorned with flowers. Seth sunk to the floor across from the queen and leaned up against the wall, kicking off his shoes and examining his feet for blisters.

"You'd think magic could make some shoes that don't feel like torture machines made specifically for your feet," Seth grumbled irritably.

"I doubt that magic would be used to make footwear, were it real." Seth startled at the sound of a voice. It was low and quit, but sounded amused. Seth could only make out the shadow of a tall figure in the doorway, but his posture was relaxed. Seth tried to mimic the casual attitude, as if he were supposed to be here, as if it were totally normal and ladylike to find a dimly lit room and kick off your shoes.

"Actually, you'd be surprised what magic is used for," Seth's loose tongue informed the stranger.

"Would I? Tell me, my lady, what is magic used for?"

"Squash. It's used to do some very innovative things with squash." That earned Seth a bout of laughter.

"I'm sure. Correct me if I'm wrong, but I was under the impression that magic made happy endings come true?"

"Oh sure, it can do that too."

"But squash innovation comes first."

"Precisely. Besides, comfortable shoes _are_ my happy ending, so magic really ought to be able to do something about that." Another laugh.

"Of course, pardon my ignorance."

"I'll let it slide. Just this once."

"Then I must repay you. I'll let it slide that you're in a restricted chamber without permission or escort."

"Oh. Thanks for that. Though, you know, if it's restricted it shouldn't have been left open."

"So it's hardly your fault?"

"Exactly." Seth pulled on his shoes at last and climbed to his feet. It was quite an ordeal, fighting against his miles of gown to stand. "It might be considered polite to help a lady to her feet," Seth grumbled as he steadied himself against a wall. No wonder Anita always needed him to hoist her up. The stranger turned from the portrait of the queen and rushed to Seth's side though he was no longer in need of assistance.

"My sincerest apologies, I hope you can forgive my rudeness," he offered Seth his arm, and after a moment Seth realized he was meant to take it despite his already regained footing. As he took the man's arm he let his eyes wander to the face that had previously been too shrouded in shadow to see. He knew at once which queen the painting depicted. Queen Fayetta, the most recent queen, mother of Prince Bracken. For who else could this man be but the son of the painted queen? He had the same silver hair as the queen, pulled tidily back from his face in a ponytail. And his smile echoed hers so accurately it was almost eerie. His eyes held the same sparkle and almost the same blue color despite their different shape.

Of course it made sense that the man coming to this chamber would be the prince. Seth wasn't sure who he'd believed Prince Bracken to be before this moment. A guard? A random partygoer? But he never would have guessed that he'd been talking easily with the prince.

"I'll consider forgiving your negligence, if you answer one question," Seth tried to keep up their casual banter, not wanting to let on that he had only just realized who Bracken was.

"I will do whatever I must to earn your forgiveness," Bracken said gravely. Seth snorted and a smile broke through Bracken's faux-serious expression. It was surprisingly easy to converse with the silver haired prince, and Seth realized that, for the first time since his arrival this ball, he was having fun.


	5. The Ball

"So spill, what are you doing _here_ , in this off limits room instead of, oh, I don't know, the ballroom? Where you might actually find your future queen?" Seth asked, genuinely wondering why Bracken wasn't sorting through brides.

"Maybe I'm looking in the right place, after all," Bracken replied, laughter in his eyes.

"Don't give me that. I'm not in the market for a husband, but I'm sure that line would make every girl in your ballroom swoon."

"Has anyone ever told you that you're wonderful company?"

"Nope. Never."

"That's what I thought," the prince laughed.

"Rude. Anyway, you didn't answer my question. Why are you here?" Seth asked again, and Bracken's demeanor sobered.

"Have you ever tried finding the love of your life in a single evening?"

"Not exactly."

"Well, it's a little overwhelming. What if I can't find someone that I can love? Or that can truly love me? What if my perfect person isn't even here tonight?" Seth could sympathize with that sentiment. He was also worrying that his person wasn't here, though his person was his sister.

"I get that, but I don't see how this helps you. If you've only got the one night you should be using it completely, not wasting time."

"You were taking a break, too," Bracken reminded him. He had a point. Taking a break meant wasting time he could be spending searching for Kendra.

"In my defense, my footwear was torturing my feet."

"Of course, how silly of me to overlook your foot pain." Bracken's gaze had drifted back to the painting of his mother. Seth found his own eyes settling on the portrait.

"She's lovely," he told Bracken.

"Huh?"

"Your mom. She looks like the kind of person you can go to for a good laugh or a warm hug."

"She was," Bracken said, studying Seth. "Most people tell me of her beauty."

"Yeah, she's got that going for her too," Seth laughed.

"She was great at advice. She always knew what to say to make things better. This is my favorite painting of her. I convinced my father to let me have it, after she died."

"So why put it here?"

"She called this place our hiding hole. I used to hate big events and would take frequent breaks."

"Used to? I get the feeling that you still don't like big events, somehow."

"Point taken. I'd always come here. This place was a store room for things lost at events."

"A lost and found?"

"More or less. Mother discovered my break room, but instead of forbidding me to come here she'd just come with me. And talk. Eventually it became our meeting place and whenever I was upset I'd come and wait for her to find me. We worked through a lot of my childhood problems in this place."

"Ah," Seth said softly, "Old habits die hard."

"Indeed. So I suppose I've made this room into a sort of shrine for her."

"Do you bring the flowers?" Seth asked, looking again at the only other fixture in the room.

"Yes. She loved flowers fresh from the garden. I'll admit I drive the groundskeepers mad with my constant picking of their flowers."

"Do you ever get scolded?"

"Hardly," he laughed, "But I do get glares."

"Next time you feel like braving the glares, pick heliotropes."

"Why?"

Seth smiled, "They're my sister's favorite. She said they mean eternal love."

Again, Bracken graced him with a look of curiosity, almost wonder. "Heliotropes," he smiled. "I will be sure to gather them when next I'm in the garden." But once again, the smile fell into something a little sadder, a little further away, and his eyes rose to his mother's likeness.

"You know, I'm not great at advice, but I'm probably better at it than a picture. If you need to work through a problem, I could…help?" Seth offered, though he's not sure why. He should be looking for Kendra, not talking with a prince.

"I'm not sure how to find love in such…constructed circumstances," Bracken admitted.

"I don't envy you there, half the girls out there can't even see past your crown." Seth winced. That was not what Bracken needed to hear. "I mean, I could point them out to you, if you want. But you've probably got brains enough to know which ones are schemers."

"Thank you," he paused, "though the girls are only half the problem. I'm as unsure of my ability to recognize who would make a good queen, a good wife, a good mother, as I am worried about the girls' ability to fill those roles adequately."

"Are you looking for love or for someone who'd be good at those things?"

"I don't know," he sighs, exasperated, "I rather think it's impossible to find love tonight. So it would make sense to instead find someone who I could potentially love, with time. And if no love would grow, then someone capable of being all I need her to be."

"If you don't mind me asking, why do you have to find someone tonight? Why can't you take your sweet time and let love find you?"

"My father thinks that this is the best way."

"Why?"

"I see few women outside of those under our employ or those we're doing business with. Father says that unless I am forced to make acquaintances and meet potential wives I won't. He's right, I think. I'm too busy with my own duties to meet people."

"What would your mother have said? About this ball?"

"She would have laughed at the idea."

"And what would she say now?"

"That I should try to enjoy myself and meet people my own age for once."

"Then that's what you'll do. The way I see it, you'll find someone or you won't. No point worrying about it. You can't control what you'll feel and who you'll feel it for. If you let yourself have fun and talk to people, you might find that you like more people than when you're stuck in your own mind worrying about if you'll like anyone."

"Thank you," his eyebrows came together in something close to worry. "I'm afraid I have once again been unforgivably rude, my sore-footed friend. It seems that I never asked your name."

"Oh, don't worry about it. I mean, I never asked yours either. I'm S—" Seth cut off abruptly, covering his stumble with a cough. He couldn't give his real name. "Cinder." He said in haste, spewing out the first thing that came to mind so as not to appear suspicious. At least he'd omitted the '-son' at the end of his nickname.

"Well, thank you, Cinder. You're advice has been most helpful." He smiled warmly down at Seth. "Would you accompany me to the gardens? I could do with some air, and have recently been instructed to gather heliotropes."

"Sure, I'll go," Seth agreed before remembering that he'd come here for a reason. _It's fine,_ he thought as Bracken led him through the palace, _I've got all night._

~oOo~

"This is," Seth breathed as he stepped into the garden, "one of the most amazing places I've ever been."

"I've visited it so often it has become one of my favorite spots," Bracken grinned.

"It must be crazy hard to take care of."

"Once again you offer me an observation I've never heard before." It was a friendly comment, an almost-compliment.

Seth shrugged, fingering a rose petal. "When you keep land it's habit to assess the work others put into theirs."

"You keep land? A garden?"

"Ranch. It's not much, really, just a small vegetable garden and some animals." Seth shrugged again, turning to see Bracken's expression. He seemed surprised. Seth's heart stuttered to a stop. Had he said something to give him away? Was it odd that he tended to land and animals? He cursed himself for being so loose mouthed. "I mean, I worked with my father on the ranch, and once he passed there was no one else to look after it, so…"

"Of course you have a ranch," he laughed again and Seth relaxed.

"Well, it's not much, especially compared to your garden, but it's mine." Seth didn't bother to hide the pride he felt for his land.

"I'd love to see it, someday."

"You could pick some flowers for your mom. I wouldn't even scold you."

"That would be a welcome change," Bracken said, picking one of the roses Seth had been fingering and handing it to him. "A souvenir."

"Thanks," Seth grinned, "But I believe we were here for different flowers."

"Yes, of course." Bracken once again offered Seth his arm. This time, it didn't come as a surprise and Seth took it easily.

Though Bracken started steering them through the garden, presumably to the heliotropes, they went slowly, pausing often and talking constantly. When at last they picked their flowers Seth's feet were hurting again.

"Come on," Seth said, tugging at Bracken's arm. "Let's go deliver these to your mom so I can sit down." Bracken obliged, letting Seth pull him along. As they made their way back through the garden Bracken developed a little smirk. It kept growing, too. "What?" Seth demanded eventually.

"You're going the wrong way."

"Are you — Really? You could have told me that five minutes ago!"

"Sorry," Bracken laughed, "but it _was_ funny."

"For you," Seth grumbled.

"Your feet torture machines getting to you?"

"I don't suppose it's considered appropriate to be barefoot at a ball?"

"I'm afraid not," the smirk was back. "But I have a more proper solution. Here, take these," he pushed the flowers in Seth's hands then, in one quick motion, hoisted Seth into his arms. Seth very nearly let out a curse. He stopped himself, but not before aimless sound made it out of his mouth. "Better?"

"You're going to regret this," Seth warned, idly examining the flowers.

"Why? You're not going to scold me, are you?"

"Nah. But my bodyweight plus the weight of my dress is going to make your muscles scold you."

"I think I can manage." And he did. He easily made it back through the garden and through the halls without so much as breaking a sweat. He let Seth down as they reached the shrine. Seth tentatively placed the heliotropes in the vase, looking to Bracken for approval.

"They look lovely," he said, smiling at the large bouquet. He picked Seth's rose out of the bundle and crudely stripped off the thorns, then gently tucked it into Seth's hair. "And so do you," he said softly.

Suddenly it hit Seth what he was doing. He should be looking for Kendra. And Bracken should be looking for a wife. Neither of them should be here, in this small room, drowning in one another's presence.

"We should go," Seth blurted. Bracken looked taken aback, almost hurt. "To the ball," Seth amended, trying to repair damage he knew he should leave alone.

"Ah. Yes, I suppose that's right."

"I'd hate to keep you from meeting people and having fun. Plus, they might send out a search party for you soon."

"I'd almost forgotten about the ball," Bracken admitted.

"Time to remember it. I want to try some of the food, and _you_ need to dance with some eligible maidens."

"I do?"

"Yes."

"Excluding you, I assume?"

"I have no clue how to dance."

"I don't mind."

"I'm getting food. You're dancing with girls. After that, if you're still up for another dance…I'll consider it."

~oOo~

Seth watched as Bracken spun girl after girl around the room. How the man had so much stamina, Seth couldn't fathom. He shook his head, dousing another strawberry in the chocolate fountain. He'd been doing circuits around the room himself, searching for Kendra. He kept coming back to the refreshments, discouraged. He could find Anita and Carmen in the room easily enough, and could even identify other nameless girls now. But no Kendra. Had he missed her? Had he lost his only chance to find his sister because he'd been distracted by a prince, of all things? But he'd searched ages for her before talking with Bracken…

The possibility that Kendra wasn't here was finally sinking in. He'd been so sure that despite everything, she'd be here. He'd find her. She had to be here. He hadn't seriously worried about her not being here any more than he worried about ghosts.

"May I have this dance, Cinder?" Seth's head snapped up, finding Bracken smiling down at him.

"Oh, I…" Kendra wasn't here. If she were, he would have found her. She wasn't here. All of this had been for nothing. A mistake. Bracken's face turned to concern. If this had been a mistake, maybe it wasn't the worst one Seth had ever made. "Sure. One dance." Might as well try to enjoy the night's end. After this dance, he'd leave with nothing to show for his adventure. Bracken grinned and swept Seth into the middle the dance floor. Nothing but Bracken's friendship. And, while it hurt to still be without Kendra, meeting Bracken had been good for him. He didn't often meet new people.

The song playing was fast and upbeat, and the dance was less formal and more fun, with clapping and twirling and stomping. Seth found himself having a good time, despite his disappointment. He grinned at Bracken as they came together for a beat, then separated again, going down their lines of partners. Seth danced briefly with an important looking man with a feather in his hat, then with a guard, then with a girl in a slim blue gown, then with a girl in a low-cut deep purple dress, then one in a pink gown. Obviously, some girls had decided to join in the dancing despite the ratios. Seth was happy to dance with everyone he met, until he found himself face to face with Anita. He tried to act naturally as they danced, but it was hard to do while she yelled past him.

"Not now, Carmen!" She screeched. "I'm dancing! Why can't you just let me have fun?"

"Shush, don't cause a scene. Nita, Mother is leaving, if we don't go with her, how will we get home?"

"I don't know and I don't care. Can't she wait just an hour longer?"

"She's been waiting all night. It's a miracle she didn't pack us both up and take us home when the guards turned her away. Now come _on_! It's time to go!"

"I don't wanna," Anita whined. Seth couldn't care less about Anita's woes.

Belinda was leaving. If she got home and discovered that Seth wasn't there…

The partners changed for the last chords of the song. Seth found himself across from Bracken, whose smile couldn't get wider.


	6. Departure

"I'm sorry," Seth managed before racing for the stairs. He had to beat Belinda home. Hopefully the girls would slow her down. Hopefully…

"Cinder, wait!" Bracken called.

"I can't! I have to leave!" Seth didn't slow, didn't look back. He was grateful for his speed as he raced up the steps and out of Bracken's grasping arms. Then down the long hallway. Then out the main door. He heard the clock chime midnight as he hurried down the grand staircase. He stumbled on the hem of his gown but managed to regain his footing.

"Argh!" Seth let out a strangled yell of frustration. One of his shoes was falling off. He kicked it the rest of the way off with spite in every shake of his foot, then hoisted up his gown and darted to his awaiting golden coach.

"Go!" He shouted the minute he got one foot on the first step. And they went. He clambered the rest of the way into his pumpkin and sat down heavily. He heaved great breaths, tired from running and shaking with adrenaline. He needed to get home before Belinda did. He needed to hide his dress, cut his hair, get his voice back. If Belinda saw him like this…he didn't know what would happen, but it would be nothing good.

When the carriage bumped to a stop Seth stumbled out and called for the firebug. She appeared more promptly then he'd hoped and he sighed in relief.

"Can you make my voice normal again? And Viola? And everything?"

"Of course, dear boy." She smiled warmly at him and conjured her wand. She flicked her wrist at him. "There, now you go take care of yourself. I will handle the rest."

"Thank you," Seth was startled to hear his voice. It was back to being _his_ voice. He rushed to the house, but couldn't help glance back at the magic. The firebug was striking. Even in human form she gave off light. Her hair wasn't so much _hair_ as it was tangible light, gleaming yellows and silvers, and every color of the rainbow. He skin glowed golden, and her clothes flowed around her like moving water. Her magic was spectacular, shooting light this way and that. He saw Viola return to her normal cow state before he finally turned to get his own appearance back to normal.

The first thing he did was strip off the gown. It took some time and effort, but finally fell to the ground. He collected it and laid it flat on his bed before covering it with a sheet and his blankets. It was a little lumpy, but you'd only notice if you looked closely. And he was the only one who did laundry, so it was as good a place as any. Next was his shoe. He tossed it in the drawer he usually kept Kendra's bracelet in. If anyone asked he could say it had belonged to his mom. He pulled on his own familiar clothes, which now felt light and strange on his skin, then entered his step sisters' room alone for the second time that night. He sat in front of the vanity and pulled out scissors.

Gathering his hair into a bundle to chop off, Seth noticed the rose Bracken had given him. He snorted at the absurdity of it all, but took the rose carefully from his hair and placed it out of harm's way. He cut his hair as best he could, but he didn't want to leave hair all over the steps' room, so he kept the cuts to a minimum. When it was at an acceptable length he tousled it and stood. No one would notice that his hair was slightly longer and shaggier than usual.

He collected his hair and rose then went outside. The land was empty. All the animals were back in place and the firebug was gone. All that was left was a pumpkin. Seth headed to the barn. He climbed to the loft and settled his hair in the nest a bluejay had been working on. He considered the rose. He almost left it in the barn, but in the end he took it back to his room and pressed it between the pages of a fairytale book Kendra had given him for his 6th birthday. Between the picture of Prince Charming and the corresponding chapter title. He left the book out on his night stand for the first time in years.

"Seth!" One of his steps screeched from downstairs. Seth snapped to attention, tuning into the sounds of clattering feet and excited voices. "Cinderson! Come help me with my dress!" Carmen screamed for him. With a sigh Seth made for his door, but caught his reflection in his dark windowpane. Seth cursed at his reflection, still dolled up in powder and and painted lips and exaggerated eyes. He scrubbed at his face frantically as Carmen's calls grew louder and madder. When at last his face was sufficiently blank he wasted no time in racing down the three flights of stairs it took to get from his attic room to the ground floor.

"About time!" Snapped Carmen.

"Sorry, I fell asleep," Seth offered an apologetic shrug.

"Lazy oaf," she grumbled. "Now help me out of this gown."

"Of course," Seth offered her his arm and helped her to her room. Anita followed behind them.

As he helped his step sisters out of all their layers, he couldn't help but ask about the ball.

"Oh, it was magnificent!" Anita gushed, eyes bright with wonder at the night's festivities. "The food was amazing, the men were handsome, and the dancing! Oh the dancing was so fun!"

"Fun?" Carmen let out a harsh laugh. "You didn't even get a chance to dance with the prince."

"So? He's gorgeous, sure. And rich. But so was every man I danced with."

"Yes, but were any of them a _prince?_ " Carmen insisted.

"Like your dance with Prince Bracken gets you any closer to being his princess," Anita grumbled.

"You danced with Bracken?" Seth asked, surprised. Then, seeing his steps' faces, amended his question, "I mean, you danced with the prince?"

"Why, as a matter of fact, I did." Carmen gloated, brushing out her hair.

"How was it?" Seth asked curiously, thinking of his own dance with Bracken. He wondered if he'd given Carmen the same warm smile he'd offered Seth. Or the odd sense of security, the sensation of aloneness — but not _loneliness_ — among the crowd.

"Splendid," she crooned. "I think he rather liked me."

"Oh, he did _not_ ," Anita dismissed, dancing around the room in her slip, holding her gown like a dance partner. "He was too busy looking at _her_ to notice anyone he danced with." This put a sour expression on Carmen's face.

"Her?" Seth asked, wondering who Bracken had had his eyes on. And why he hadn't noticed.

"A mysterious beauty," Anita giggled. "Dressed in green and gold. I can't say I blame the prince for choosing her."

"Shut up!" Carmen threw her brush at Anita, who covered her face just in time to avoid a bloody nose. Seth stared dumbfounded at Anita. Bracken had been distracted by…him? He'd ignored Carmen and every other girl he'd danced with because he was too busy watching Seth? And Anita was taking it in stride, had called him a _mysterious beauty_ and smiled? All the sudden everything seemed very funny. Seth had snuck into a ball pretending to be a maiden, had managed to befriend the prince, piss Carmen off, and make it home before anyone was any the wiser. Before he knew it, laughter was spilling from him. It was hilarious in its absurdity.

Carmen glared at him, and he took that as his cue to leave. He laughed all the way back to his room. He slipped into his bed and put out the lantern, touching his book of fairytales fondly before closing his eyes, fulling expecting to wake up tomorrow to find that this all had been a bizarre dream.


	7. Searching

The very day after the ball, posters littered the town. They urged the _'young maiden adorned in green and gold'_ to send a letter to the palace, to Prince Bracken, giving proof of her identity and a means to contact her by. Like the invitations to the ball itself, Seth was first informed about the ordeal by his steps.

"Girls!" Belinda called as she swept in the door from her morning spent shopping in town. Anita jumped from her spot on the couch at her mother's loud entrance, Carmen came racing down the stairs in her slip and the remnant of last night's makeup, and Seth wearily tuned into his steps' conversation from his post sweeping up the cinders in the kitchen.

"What's wrong, Mother?" Anita asked, and when Seth saw Belinda's face he understood why she'd asked. Belinda looked a mess. Her hair was falling out of it's usual tight bun, her breast was heaving, and her brow was drenched in sweat.

"We must act at once, late letters could get lost in the piles I'm sure he's going to get." Belinda had a crazed glint in her eye that Seth had learned meant trouble.

"What are you talking about?" Carmen snapped, then apologized at Belinda's cold glare.

"This," and she showed them the poster. The girls became excited at once, but it was not until they had moved to the study to work on their letters that Seth was able to read it himself.

He'd barley read the first sentence before his hands dropped the paper from shock. Bracken was looking for him. _Why?_ Seth couldn't help but wonder. Why would Bracken be so eager to reunite with _him?_ He felt… a lot of things. He felt a great deal of emotions and he understood very few of them. He was nervous, possibly he was even scared— this stunt could expose him and he knew if Belinda found out about last night he'd be lucky to be allowed out of his room in the next ten years. Yet, at the same time, he was giddy with the idea that someone cared for him enough to search for him. But mostly he was sad. Last night _had_ been a dream— it may have really happened but it was still a dream. Nothing had been real. He'd been at the ball for Kendra, not Bracken. His name was Seth, not Cinder. And he was no maiden. He'd never see Bracken again. How could he? And knowing that Bracken _wanted_ to see him again only made it worse. By not coming forward he'd likely hurt Bracken. And, if Seth was who Bracken was attempting to contact, what did that mean about his search for a bride…But no, that was a thought for another day.

Seth marveled at the irony of his own search. He'd gone to the palace intending to find his sister. Instead, he'd been forced to realize that he wouldn't see her again. Probably he'd lost her forever. And, on top of it all, he'd found a new friend— the only friend he'd ever really had- only to say goodbye to him forever too. What a mistake the night had been.

~oOo~

Carmen and Belinda had perfected Carmen's letter and become impatient waiting for Anita's. They'd hurried off to town to deliver Carmen's note to the post office, leaving Seth and Anita alone.

"And you had better help her finish that letter before we get home," Belinda warned on her way out the door, "Or I'll sell your favorite cow for some beans."

"I don't see how I can help," Seth protested. "I wasn't at the ball, how could I be any use?" But Belinda was already out the door. He let out a frustrated sigh, then trudged to the study. He didn't believe Belinda would sell Viola, but it wasn't a risk he could take.

"I wonder if Mother will read my letter," Anita said absently as Seth pulled up a seat next to where she worked at the desk. "Or if I could write nonsense."

"You don't want to try?" Seth asked her, genuinely surprised.

"I don't think the prince is stupid. He's got to know every girl from last night will be writing him. He'll be looking for stone-sure truth. Carmen and I can't say anything to make him believe we're _her_." She rolled her eyes, as if to say that her sister and mother were silly for thinking otherwise.

"Not to mention, don't you think he'd recognize her? Or, at least, recognize who she's _not?_ " Seth couldn't help himself from voicing his own thoughts, as they seemed to be on the same wavelength as Anita's.

"He sure stared at her enough last night to have memorized her face," Anita nodded.

"Still," Seth said, turning his focus to the papers littering the desk. "We'd better appease your mother and write this thing before she gets home."

"Yeah," Anita stared forlornly at her bottle of ink.

"What do you have so far?"

"My Dearest Prince, I had a grand time dancing with you last night." She paused. "That's it."

"First, take out the 'prince' bit."

"Why?" She asked, but she scratched out the word anyway.

"It focuses on his title rather than him."

"My Dearest…Bracken? No, I don't like that."

"Just leave it as Dearest then," Seth shrugged. "Any idea what to say next?"

"To offer proof, Carmen described the dress in great detail, claiming to have had it hand made, she talked about the color of the prince's eyes, the grandeur of the ball…"

"That sound fake."

"Agreed. If I were actually his maiden I wouldn't be telling him about my dress! Anyone could have seen it and could describe it well."

"If you were her," Seth said, his cheeks warming at the thought of being Bracken's, "what would you say?"

"An inside joke? My name? How amazing dancing with him was…"

"Well, we can't do anything with the first two. But you could talk about dancing," Seth gave her a one shoulder shrug; it was as good an idea as any.

"But I didn't dance with him!"

"But you _did_ dance, didn't you?"

"Oh yes, and it was really lovely." Anita's lips played into a small smile and she seemed to lose herself in the memory of the ball. Getting an idea, Seth quietly slipped a piece of paper in front of him and carefully took up the quill. He penned in Anita's greeting then prompted her:

"Do you have a favorite? Dance, I mean."

"Well…I did rather enjoy dancing with one of the guards," she admitted with a nervous laugh.

"Tell me about it," Seth urged. "Why was that dance special?"

"It felt as magical as real life can get. I was having such fun dancing—my first dance of the night— that at first I was watching the crowds blur into a colorful fan, and the way the room sparkled. But when I turned to look at his face right in the middle of a spin…I nearly stumbled! I swear I've never been looked at the way he looked at me. Like I was something special, something worth holding on to, you know? And I could see, well, I know it's silly and I feel embarrassed about it, really, but I saw in his face and his kind eyes a future that I wanted. Is that love, do you think? I only met him that night, hardly even knew him before dancing with him. And yet, I was so sure in that moment that I could spend the rest of my life with him." She finished, a faint blush dusting her cheeks. Seth briefly marveled at her willingness to talk to him, especially on such a personal topic. But then, Carmen wasn't the listening type. Maybe, in her own way, Anita was as lonely as he was.

"I know as much about love as I know about blacksmithing," Seth told her absently as he finished scribing her words onto paper, with a few adjustments to make it sound addressed to Bracken. "But that sounds like love, in my unknowledgeable opinion. Or at least it's a connection that's special in some way."

"You think?"

"Yeah, I do," Seth said ruefully, thinking of his own connection with Bracken. "I say after we mail this letter, you'd better go find this guard and invite him for dinner."

"I couldn't! I don't know how to find him, I don't even know his— wait. We can't mail the letter. I haven't written a thing."

"No, but I did. Your story about falling in love, I wrote it down for him. It's vague enough that it works. And it's sincere, even if it's not for him. So it won't sound as fake as talking about a dress."

Anita grinned, "I love it! But I'm not sure Mother will find it persuasive enough."

"Take it to the post office yourself. She did say she wanted it delivered as soon as possible."

"Thanks!" Anita smiled as she stood up. "And Seth?"

"Yeah?"

"I'm sorry. About everything." She was gone before Seth could respond. Just as well, really. He couldn't forgive almost ten years of cruelty after one pleasant interaction, could he? But as he stared after her he found that he could. Resentment weighed heavily on the heart while forgiveness was as light and happy as the soft down feathers on a new chick.

~oOo~

Belinda was by no means pleased that she had not read Anita's letter before it was sent, but the logic behind Seth's argument held her anger at bay. The was no talk of selling Viola, or even of Seth missing supper. Anita returned home in an upbeat mood, and Seth thought to ask her if she'd found anything of her guard, but thought better of it. Belinda and Carmen were home now, making it near impossible to catch Anita away from them. But they exchanged smiles, and Seth felt as happy as he ever had in this house since Kendra had left.

A week passed before there was any news on the letters or the prince's search for his lady in green. Carmen and Belinda spoke of possibilities and went into town frequently for new gossip. Anita pretended to be interested, though she was not. Seth pretended he wasn't interested, though he was.

Seth was teaching Anita how to style her own hair, as he'd taken to doing when the others were out and his chores were finished, when Carmen burst into their room with unmistakable excitement. She only spared a second's quizzical expression for her sister and step-brother's activities before relaying the new gossip.

"It's began! Really, truly!" She squealed, grabbing Anita's shoulders.

"What has?" Anita asked blandly.

"The search! The prince has sorted through the letters and is sending his most trusted men to the houses of those who sound like his maiden in green!" This got Anita and Seth's attention.

"How will they know it's her?" Anita asked.

"They never saw her, if Prince Bracken isn't coming they have no way of knowing if any of the girls they visit is telling the truth," Seth observed.

"They have her shoe!" Carmen told them eagerly. "Each lady who is visited will try on the shoe to prove her identity."

"Sounds like a faulty way to find a bride," Seth snorted. Anita giggled in agreement.

"It's romantic," Carmen huffed at them. "Anyway, Cinderson, Mother has a list of chores for you. We fully expect a visit from the prince's guards and the house has to look spotless."

Seth doubted Carmen's letter was convincing enough to merit a home visit, but he didn't protest. He knew better than to argue. He collected his chores from Belinda and set right to work, losing himself in thought while he scrubbed, swept, and cleaned. The logistics of Bracken's search were…illogical. Would he marry any girl Seth's golden slipper fit? Or would those girls simply move on to the next level of this search? Perhaps a meeting with the prince himself. But Bracken would recognize them all as imposters, surely. But…there was no Cinder. If Bracken couldn't find his maiden in green, would he convince himself that one of the imposters was her after all? For some reason, that thought made Seth's stomach churn.


	8. Finding

The prince's men had, thus far, visited twenty-two houses in the four and half days since the shoe-fitting had commenced. It was on the fifth, and final, day that Seth found himself forced out of the house to 'tidy the lawn' by Belinda. Each day she and Carmen awaited for the moment they were sure Bracken's men would ride up, and each day they found more and more ridiculous chores for him to complete. Like if he swept the dirt path and shined the pumpkins their chances of being visited would magically increase.

Seth was happy enough to be outside rather than in the house with the two pacing terrors. It was claustrophobic in the house as of late. Seth almost felt bad for Anita, cooped up in there alone with Carmen and Belinda telling her she ought to care more. Not bad enough to hurry with his task and return to the house, though. He loved this land, and every plant and animal on it. They'd been his only comfort for many years. He took his time wondering through the grounds. He swept a hand over the shell of a pumpkin, and his mind slipped to the gardens he'd visited with Bracken. His eyes went out of focus, reducing his own pumpkin patch to a blur of colors. He imagined Bracken were here with him, imagined showing off his crop, then leading his friend to the best patch of wild flowers, to bring back for his mom.

He didn't register the noise at first, thinking it part of his daydream. The _clip-clop_ of hooves against packed dirt, the blaring of trumpets, the almost audible presence of _importance_. His eyes snapped to the worn path he'd been 'cleaning' moments before.

"No way," Seth whispered in amazement. Had Carmen's letter really worked? For there was no other reason these men could be here, but to have a maiden try on the shoe. His shoe. He hurried back inside to tell his steps of the approaching party. When he got into the living room, however, it was clear that there was no need for him to tell them anything. All three women were glued to the window.

"He's come for me!" Carmen squealed.

"Hush, child," Belinda said. "We have not won the crown yet. You both must be prepared to play the part, understand?" But before the girls could respond, there was an important knock at the door.

"Cinderson," Belinda snapped, her meaning clear. Seth obligingly went to the door and opened it with a small bow of respect for the leader of the group.

"Salutations, I am General Rax, proud server of the crown."

"Pleased to meet you," Seth said after a pause, not knowing proper protocol. "Uh, please come in?" He moved aside, and the general stepped inside with two men close behind. Seth thought it rather rude that the guards did not even take off their helmets upon entering his house. He scowled in irritation at the disrespect.

"We are here, as I am sure you have gathered, on official business from Prince Bracken himself," General Rax continued, "Which one of you ladies would be Anita Fairwhether?"

Carmen gaped, obviously outraged and shocked at this development. Belinda didn't miss a beat. She swept her hands at Anita.

"My youngest, here, is Anita." She ushered Anita forward. Anita looked, if possible, more surprised than Carmen.

"Would you care to sit down, Miss?" The general took her hand and lead her over to the sofa. Anita sat down heavily on the cushions. She snuck a look at Seth and he was surprised to see fear in her eyes. Was she worried she'd get in trouble for failing the shoe test? But as she turned back to Rax it occurred to Seth that she was scared of the opposite. Of being obligated to marry Bracken, of never being able to find her own love. Seth walked swiftly to her side, almost without intending to, and placed his hand on her shoulder, giving her what he hoped was a reassuring squeeze. He caught Belinda's glare out of the corner of his eye.

The guards stood to the back, the taller one scanning the room, stopping briefly on each person. Seth stuck out his tongue at the man when his helmeted face turned towards him. Did the guard think General Rax was in any danger? That this was all a ploy to murder the general? Or, perhaps, a young maiden had gone into a violent rage upon being told she would not, in fact, be princess and the guards were a new precaution. In any case, Seth's face earned him several returned glances from the guard.

General Rax knelt down, gesturing the shorter guard forward. The guard gave the general an ornate box, then stepped back in line with his taller companion. Rax opened the box with great care and Seth saw his left-behind slipper, as delicate and beautiful as it had been when the firebug had first spelled it up. The shoe glinted gold as it was pulled from the box. Everyone held their breath as General Rax brought the slipper to Anita's foot and gently slipped it on.

Seth couldn't help it. He let out a snorting laugh.

"I'm sure I know why the prince's mysterious maiden can't be found!" He let out another cackle, and every eye in the house was on him. "Because…" he held up a hand, pleading for them to wait for the punchline while he tried to stop his own laughter. "Because she's Big Foot!" He said gleefully. The golden slipper was much too big for Anita's foot, much too big for any young girl's foot, really, because it was _his_ shoe. And his body may be small enough to pass for a girl's, but his feet were no such thing.

He was the only one laughing. Carmen stared at him slack-jawed. Anita had her hand over her mouth, likely trying _not_ to laugh. General Rax frowned slightly, looking at the shoe. The guards both stared at him behind their helmets.

Belinda had fire in her eyes. "How dare you!" She raged. "How dare you embarrass our family in front of the king's men? Go to your chamber! I can not stand to have you in the company of these fine men."

"Fine men that don't have the curtesy to take off their helmets in my house?" Seth sneered.

"Cinderson!" Belinda barked. Seth shrugged, preparing to take his leave.

"Allow me, Madam, to escort him out." The tall guard stepped towards Seth.

"Oh, yes, thank you Sir," Belinda smiled at him, then shot a smug look at Seth.

Seth considered protesting, but decided it wold be easier to allow the tall man to follow him upstairs. He heard the man clanking along behind him up the flights of stairs to his attic room.

"Well, this is me," Seth said, opening his door. "Thanks for the assist." The man didn't turn around, but instead followed him inside the room, closing the door behind him.

"What?" Seth snapped. "You gonna punch me for saying the shoe is huge?" But the guard just stared at him. Seth squinted, trying to see through the helmet to the man's eyes. "And it _is_ rude to come into someone's home with a masked face. My house may not be much, but manners are required here every bit as much as they are at your fancy palace, you know." Seth let out a frustrated sigh. This whole week had been a mess, had gotten him all worked up over little things. But it upset him to think that Bracken would marry some girl pretending to be him— that Bracken wouldn't be able to tell the difference between him and an imposter. And this man was helping that come to pass.

"You're correct, of course. My apologies for my ill manners." Now that Seth was actually listening to the guard, his voice seemed familiar… The man reached up to remove his helmet. As he pulled it off Seth's heart seemed to drop deep into his stomach.

"Oh," was all he could manage. Though his silver hair was pulled back in a bun and his face was grimy from hours under a helmet, it was unmistakably Prince Bracken standing in front of him.

"Correct me if I'm wrong, but we know each other, don't we?"

"Uh," Seth was having issues processing this all. "Well, that makes more sense, really. The shoe was just an excuse to come get a look at people who wrote convincing letters. I'm relieved, actually, that you're not dumb enough to believe trying on shoes was a good way to find someone."

"Yes, it does make sense, doesn't it. What doesn't make sense is _you_."

"Me? I don't understand." There was no way Bracken could have recognized him.

"I'm sure you do, _Cinderson_."

"Oh," Seth's eyes widened. He hadn't even noticed the use of his nickname as it was so second-nature to him. But, obviously, someone had used it while Bracken was standing right there.

"I don't understand, but you're her, aren't you? You're my Cinder."

"Don't be ridiculous, you're searching for a pretty girl in a green dress. I'm not — I'm nothing. I'm a rancher. I'm a _boy_. Not your Cinder. Not your _anything_." Seth tried to make his tone biting, and he must have succeeded. Hurt flickered across Bracken's features.

"No. I'm sure you're the girl I met at the ball. Since the moment you stuck your tongue out at me." _Oh,_ thought Seth, _That's why he kept looking at back._ "And the evidence keeps piling up." Bracken looked at him hard, and Seth deflated. He'd been found out. Bracken turned to the small window overlooking the vegetable garden. "I got to visit your ranch, after all." Bracken said softly.

"Listen, I'm sorry," Seth said, moving to stand next to Bracken in front of the window. "I never meant to deceive you."

"I don't understand," Bracken said again. "What were you doing there, if your intention was not to deceive?"

"I said I didn't mean to deceive _you._ I only meant to fool the guards into letting me into the ball. I was there hoping to find my sister. We were separated years and years ago, when my mother left me and my dad, she took my sister with her. I haven't seen her since. When I heard about your dance, open to all maidens in the kingdom, I was sure she would go. She loved fairytales and stories, and finding your true love at a ball? Seemed like her. But I couldn't get in, being…" Seth gestured at himself, "a boy, and all. So I dressed as a girl and snuck in. Meeting you wasn't part of the plan." Seth didn't look at Bracken, though he could feel the prince's eyes on him.

"You should have told me."

"Maybe. But honestly? I forgot that I was dressed up with you. I just felt…like me."

"Did you find her? Your sister?"

"No. She wasn't there. It would've been better for everyone if I'd stayed home," Seth laughed bitterly.

"Well, this certainly complicates things, but I don't regret meeting you. I'm glad you didn't stay home."

"What?" Now Seth turned to face Bracken. "I threw off your whole wife-finding plan."

"Yes, I suppose you did. But I can work past it, I'm sure."

"Oh good," Seth said, though he wasn't sure if he meant it. "You'll have had a backup plan, in case you couldn't find me. Another girl— an _actual_ girl— that you'd be happy to marry."

"No," Bracken said, taken aback. "I knew even during our first conversation in my closet that it could only be you. Would I have put such effort into finding you if my heart were not completely set on marrying you?"

Seth's stomach flipped. "Marry?" He felt light headed.

"Yes, marry. And if you'd have just written to me and _explained_ I could have found you a lot faster."

"But I'm not an eligible maiden for marriage, Bracken! Because I'm not a girl! If I'd written you it would have been to tell you that you invested all your feelings in a dead end."

"I'm to be King within the year, do you really believe that I can be stopped from marrying whomever I want?"

"I…don't understand. You _still_ want to marry me?"

"Yes. Of course. I'm not sure if I believe in love at first sight, but after one night with you I was sure I would love you dearly for the rest of my life, if only I could get you to _stay in it_. Such knowledge doesn't change over something like this, unexpected though it may be."

"I don't know what to say to that." Seth admitted.

"Tell me what you want. The only thing that can deter me from marrying you is you telling me that you don't want to marry me."

"I can't stand the thought of you marrying someone else," Seth breathed, voicing it for the first time. He didn't want anyone else to know of Bracken's hiding spot, of his habit of picking flowers, didn't want Bracken to carry some girl through his garden, didn't want Bracken to be with anyone else. Such thoughts were terrifying and impossible, so Seth had neglected to truly think them for weeks.

"Forgive me, but once again I find myself not knowing what to call you." Bracken let out a small laugh.

"Seth. My name is Seth Sorenson. My step family often call me Cinderson. From tending the fire."

"Then, Seth Sorenson," Bracken dropped down to kneel before Seth, "will you marry me?"

"Yes," Seth could feel the smile spread across his face, mirroring the one on Bracken's.

"I don't know what I would have done if you'd said no," Bracken confessed, standing up and lifting Seth off the ground in a hug.

"Looked like a fool, that's what," Seth informed him, arms wrapping around his neck. Bracken laughed some more, blue eyes gleaming with so much emotion Seth found himself lost in them. And then Bracken was kissing him, or maybe he was kissing Bracken. Everything, in that moment, was perfect.


End file.
